My husband cannot accept I don’t like mustard. Things came to a head yesterday.

We’ve been married two years, dating five. We are both 34- I’m a woman, he’s a man, if it matters. I’m not a picky eater. In fact I’m quite adventurous and every time I’ve traveled I’ve always made it a point to try dishes with unusual/uncommon ingredients to say I’ve tried them. There are very few foods I won’t eat. One of them is mustard (the condiment).

I don’t like it. I just don’t. The taste is very strong and overpowering and it’s an unpleasant taste. I’ve tried yellow, stone ground, honey, artisan, brown, spicy, you name it. I have tried them all. And I just don’t like them.

My husband for some reason never understood this. He loves mustard, especially honey mustard. He puts it on all his sandwiches, dips his fries in it.

And everytime he tries to force me to try it. He’ll insist I’ll like it this time. I’m a grown ass woman. I know what I don’t like! And I don’t like mustard. So I’ll say no and it’ll devolve into a mini-argument where he’ll call me picky.

Well, last night we were on the road home from a weekend trip we took together and he stopped at a gas station to get us a quick bite. He got a hot dog slathered in mustard. I got one but decided to keep it plain. I don’t really love hot dogs to begin with but I will eat them.

While we waited in line he asked what I got on mine. I told him nothing.

He actually got furious and grabbed it from me. He marched over to the condiment station and began putting mustard on my hot dog, telling me to grow up and stop being picky.

I just walked out and sat in the car. I didn’t even want the damn hot dog anymore. My appetite was gone.

He came back and began screaming at me for embarrassing him even further. The word divorce was said for the first time ever. I secretly recorded his screaming because I was genuinely afraid I would die. He was driving erratically, swerving and speeding.

I’m in a hotel tonight. He ignored me all day at work and then the calls started around when he realized I wasn’t coming home. Nonstop voicemails and texts. He sent me a screenshot of a Google search for local divorce lawyers. I haven’t eaten all day and I’ve been sobbing in this damn hotel room. I don’t want to get divorced and I wish I had just ate the fucking mustard.

Someone, anyone, please give me an explanation. Am I in danger? Why would he react this way to a preference of mine? I’m completely broken right now.